notes we've left behind
by MousyNona
Summary: At the end of the line, Sans has nothing but memories and just the smallest pinch of time.


His eyesockets hurt from the brilliance of the golden hall as he willed a legion of Gaster Blasters into being and shot a blue bolt that finally, finally skewered the deceased red heart. The world swam for a moment as he stumbled and caught himself on a column, panting slightly as the heart broke into two and leaked out into the dark.

Sans slid to the ground, taking advantage of the momentary reprieve to open his tattered notebook with one boney hand and gingerly flip through the only memories left in the world.

There were so many important entries in his notebook now, some underlined, some aggressively highlighted in neon pink and yellows, some ground so hard into the page that he could feel the grooves with his fingers.

 _Celebrated 31st anniversary re: breaking of barrier._

 _Tori's bday. Mem. Cinnamon + butterscotch...ask F?_

 _Moved in with Tori - F v. happy._

 _Alphys went Up; closed down lab. Shut Core, said goodbyes to WDG. RIP you old bag of bones._

There were pictures included with some of the earlier notes - polaroid shots of him with Papyrus and a motley assortment of characters, some he recognized and others he didn't, all of them grinning like fools as they squinted into the sun. There was one of him and Tori (Toriel? The Queen? What did you call an ex from another timeline?) spread out on the beach. One of Papyrus posing proudly by a shiny red car. One of him giving the human a piggy back ride while they squealed in soundless joy.

One of them even pictured him dressed smartly in a tuxedo (albeit with a ketchup stain and he felt a rush of relief to see it), standing next to a grown Frisk dressed all in white. _A wedding dress_ , Alphys would whisper in awe if she was here.

She wasn't here.

Most of the entries that came with those were neat(er), written with all the care in the world. As if once upon a time he'd hoped by carefully inscribing every letter, he'd somehow be able to tamp down the past, the present, the future so they'd stay in their right place for once.

* * *

Birds were singing. Flowers were blooming. Wherever the anomaly was, they were, once again, pressing RESET.

* * *

The world blurred, tilting on its axis. Flowers were blooming. Birds were singing. And Sans forged on.

There were less of those cautiously hopeful memos as he flipped forward, until each entry was barely a couple brief notes scribbled across the page, lazy scrawl that couldn't even be bothered to stay within the lines. There wasn't a single picture in sight.

 _\+ Asg found. Status: deceased. F safely back Up - U burned table, spear, house. Mem. buy new house._

 _U + M + Asg found. Status: deceased._

 _Blook + Doggo + Dogamy & Dogaressa + G. Dog + L. Dog + Glyde + guards + Muffet + Sorry + Shyren + Aaron + Froggit + Whimsun + Loox + T + U + M + Asg. Status: deceased._

The lists got longer and longer as he painstakingly recorded every death that had ever been or ever was as he stood by and did nothing.

And he felt his sins crawling on his back.

Eventually he'd made life easier by writing out the names of every monster beforehand and simply crossing them off as they went.

 _et al. Anomaly spared Pap, further research req._

His personal favorite note was on page 176, sandwiched between a quantum entanglement graph and a sketch of the potential probabilities of the anomaly. _Dirty brother killer._

After that, the sketch became much clearer, as did the constants. This was the conventional truth: the anomaly, dubbed Frisk, seemed to be benign unless second personality, dubbed freak, got a taste for blood and took over. And with every single reset it got stronger; killing more people, laying more waste, sowing more hurt. Distancing itself more.

Last time, only a few names had gone unchecked, with his being the only one who hadn't been crossed off at least once.

 _Gaster's impossibility theorem: if there are infinite multiverses, then there are an infinite number of possibilities and, conversely, every possibility must become a certainty..._

* * *

Steps in the hallway. Not long now.

* * *

Sans carefully thumbed to one of the earlier pages, ripping one out and sliding it into his pocket before hoisting himself to his feet just in time to head off the anomaly before it could pass by.

The anomaly came to an abrupt halt in front of him and he had to hand it to them - their monotone look was only a little bent in frustration as they squared off, knives and eyes flashing. They smiled. He grinned back into the abyss.

"Let's just get to the point."


End file.
